"Well, there are so many wanting places," said the Emperor; "but let me see!—I need a Swineherd. I have a good many pigs to keep."
So the Prince was made Imperial Swineherd. He had a wretched little room near the pig-sty and here he was obliged to stay. But the whole day he sat and worked, and by the evening he had made a neat little pipkin, and round it was a set of bells, and as soon as the pot began to boil, the bells fell to jingling most sweetly and played the old melody:
"Ach du lieber Augustin,
Alles is weg, weg, weg!"[54]
But the most wonderful thing was that when you held your finger in the steam of the pipkin, you could immediately smell what dinner was cooking on every hearth in the town. That was something very different from a rose.
The Princess was walking out with her ladies-in-waiting, and when she heard the melody, she stopped short, and looked pleased, for she could play "Ach du lieber Augustin" herself; it was the only tune she knew, and that she played with one finger. "Why, that is the tune I play," she said. "What a cultivated Swineherd he must be. Go down and ask him how much his instrument costs."
So one of the ladies-in-waiting was obliged to go down, but she put on pattens first.
"How much do you want for your pipkin?" asked the Lady-in-waiting.
"I will have ten kisses from the Princess," said the Swineherd.
"Good gracious!" said the Lady-in-waiting.
"I will not take less," said the Swineherd.